


Hetalia: The Rise of the British Empire

by HereToReadStories



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Aggression, Anger, Angst, Depression, Eventual Romance, M/M, Magic, Pirate!England, Resentment, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2003754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereToReadStories/pseuds/HereToReadStories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England gave up everything for America, both when he was young and older. But what did the American give him back? Nothing, minus the aid for both World Wars. Growing more isolated everyday, England decides he's had enough. And what way to make a greater comeback by reliving his good old days? A pirate's life it shall be.</p><p>!! Discontinued as of 22nd July 2014, but may make a swift return in June/July 2015. !!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hetalia: The Rise of the British Empire

Well, here he was again. Stood in his wizarding chamber, wand in hand, spell book in the other in front of the giant symbol etched out onto the floor in front. This was how he spent most of his days now. He'd summoned Russia unintentionally a grand total of seventeen times now, and the next time that bloody freak appeared through his floor he'd kick the living daylights out of him. Bloody Russia.

Usually England wasn't this aggressive, but when the pain of his past came back to haunt him it was impossible to ignore. He'd dream about how miraculous the old days were, when he was literally swimming in the gold and treasure he gathered from his conquered lands, and how he owned half of the face of the Earth. Everything was perfect, and he even acquired a 'little brother' to look after and raise as his own. Only, when this brother grew up, England's life took a turn for the worst.

July 4th 1778. The American Revolutionary War. The day when America demonstrated that he no longer needed England's help or protection. The day when America left him. The day when England's heart broke into a million pieces. The bastards Spain and France didn't help, either. In fact, the two went against England and fought on America's side. Idiots.

However, from this day on it would be different. England smiled darkly under his dark green magic robes that he wore during conjurings. With a swift flick of his wrist and wand, the older nation began to weave a pattern of ancient and unknown words, keeping his wrist moving as he did so. The mysterious etchings on the floor began to glow a luminous blue, followed shortly by the emerald glow of England's own eyes as he jerked his head back, forcing the hood to fall onto his shoulders. As the mutterings continued, a white light surrounded the Brit, engulfing him in a blaze until no part of him could any longer be seen. The chanting grew louder and louder as the ground started to shake, objects in the rest of the house rattled where they sat, lights and chandeliers grew ever brighter until-

Everything went pitch black. The houses of each and every individual nation were plunged into darkness as the electricity was cut off, leaving only the faint evening light to glow through the windows as an almost pathetic light source to what was witnessed a few seconds ago. In this darkness, the United States of America stood in his house, looking around with a concerned expression.

"...! Uh, dudes? What happened to the lights?" The American shouted through his house in the hope that one of the people working for him would respond.

Lithuania turned the corner and entered the room America was in, giving him a nervous smile. "N-Nothing to worry about, sir! Just a minor power cut, is all. The electricity should return in a couple of minutes."

"Huh," America stated as he turned to look out of the window. "That doesn't explain the mini earthquake that happened at the exact time, though, does it?" He turned around to say something else but Lithuania was already gone. "Damn."

Irritated that he could no longer use his internet connection due to the power cut, America opened the front doors and went outside in the hope that it wasn't only him who had lost all electricity, and along the horizon he could see Japan's house which too, had no lights on. Maybe he wasn't the only one, then. At least he wouldn't be the only one to suffer without spending at least six hours a day on tumblr.

"Mr. America! Mr. America!" came the yelling of a very distressed Italian racing towards the blonde-haired American at full speed.

"Huh, Italy? What are you doing here?" replied the confused nation - normally Italy would never come calling to him, let alone actually speak to him.

The Italian came to a stop in front of him and took a few breaths, trying to obtain as much oxygen as possible in between words. "Germany... France... Spain... captured! England, he... come quickly!"

Before the Italian could make another run for it, America grabbed his collar and pulled him back. "Woah, slow down, buddy! Speak English, please? What about England? What did he do now?"

England. It had to be England, didn't it? For God's sake, why was it always him?!

"England, he... he captured Germany! And France and Spain of course, but who ever thought it was possible to capture Germany? And why now? Why did he do it? Is he trying to start another war? Oh, God no! What if he takes my pasta and replaces it with his awful scones? I don't want to face that terrible fate, I'd rather die! Help me America, please!" Italy babbled, arms flailing in all directions as he did so.

"He did _what_?! England? Are you sure it was him?" the American bit his lip, now concerned. Was Italy pranking him?

"Yes, there was no mistaking those eyebrows! And he was wearing pretty fancy clothes, actually, but that doesn't matter now! Come quickly!" the Italian grabbed America by the arm and ran in the general direction of England's house.

"Wha- hey!" America yelped as he was dragged. Whilst running along, America looked genuinely concerned. What had gotten into the Brit now? Did he want to cause World War Three, or what? He didn't see any reason why England would want to capture those three, but if he wanted to capture anyone it would probably be European countries, which was something all three of those were. America didn't like this, not one bit.

Suddenly, Italy halted to a stop, which caused America to almost be flung forwards if it wasn't for his quick reflexes. "For fucks sake, Italy! Do you want to get me killed?!"

"Sorry! It's just, look!"

The Italian pointed over to a large house in the distance, which was no doubt the house of England. However, there were numerous soldiers forming a perimeter around the house, to stop anyone and everyone from getting in. The soldiers, upon closer inspection, held long swords instead of the usual guns, which raised America's suspicions even further. The American pulled the Italian towards a bush and crouched down behind it, becoming very aware of his surroundings.

"This isn't right," he stated. "Has he finally gone insane or did one of his 'magic' tricks actually work?"

"I don't know but this sure is scary! I didn't even bring one of my white flags..." the Italian pouted.

America dragged a hand down his face. Were all Italians like this? Without another word, America stood up, and slowly approached the guards. When one noticed the American approaching, he yelled, alerting the others.

"There he is! Quick lads, let's take him in! The Captain has a lot planned for this one!"

Following this, several guards moved towards America, swords raised and poised to attack. America clenched his teeth, standing his ground, whilst Italy freaked out from the shadows. One of the guards had a rope, and whilst two of them held America in place, one tied his hands behind his back tightly.

"This is fucking ridiculous. Don't you know who I am?! I'm America, and I don't deserve to be treated like some sort of criminal, do you understand me!?" America yelled, showing his disgust by spitting in the floor aggressively. "The U.S. Army will be after you, and then you'll be sorry!"

The guards laughed in unison. "Keep telling yourself that, and you might actually believe it. I don't know what the Captain wants with scum like you, but if you are who you say you are, then you have a lot to look forward to."

Being roughly pushed towards the house, America strode towards it with what was left of his dignity. This wasn't right. The USA was supposed to be the country of freedom, and being tied up like some sort of criminal was definitely the opposite of that. Almost snarling, he continued forward, with the British guards watching his every move.


End file.
